


Mandatory Training From Heaven

by Anonymous



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Other, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 10:03:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19332331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Uriel looks up at the ceiling and rolls her eyes. She makes a little projectile out of the most offensive of the diagrams, and lobs it expertly at the back of Aziraphale's head."Ow!" Aziraphale looks indignantly towards her."Shh, silence please. Aziraphale, I would like you especially to pay close attention to this next bit."





	Mandatory Training From Heaven

"Now, as you know," Gabriel says, pointing the clicker towards his crotch, " _I_ do not sully the temple of my celestial body with... gross matter. I am smooth as a fig leaf down here, always have been. Not a bump, not a wrinkle!" he says proudly.

Uriel rolls her eyes and makes an inverted V sign under the pretext of propping up her chin.

"But," Gabriel continues smarmily while looking pointedly in Aziraphale's direction, "for those of you who _might_ be _tempted_ to do so, I'm not judging!" He puts his hands up and twists his mouth into the fakest smile since congratulating Michael on her promotion. "I just think you should know a few things in order to protect yourselves."

Everyone sighs. They know what's coming, it was in the subject of the memo that flashed across their collective awareness the day before, and there's nothing they can do to stop it short of rushing about Armageddon.

Michael looks like she might be considering it.

"The two main categories are corporeal and non-corporeal..."

Gabriel drones on, while the bananas on his desk are trying to shrivel under the gaze of a Host of mortified angels.

Uriel raises her hand and speaks in a growling, one might even say "mutinous", tone.

"Some of us have absolutely no interest in manifesting, or interacting with, _anything_ resembling the shape of- that," she points at a banana, and the unfortunate fruit blackens and rots with a fizzling sound.

Sandalphon twitches and crosses his legs.

"Do not worry, _Archangel_ ," Gabriel says in a clipped voice, "we _will_ get to things resembling caverns, holes, and other assorted... concave places."

Uriel looks up at the ceiling and rolls her eyes. She makes a little projectile out of the most offensive of the diagrams, and lobs it expertly at the back of Aziraphale's head.

"Ow!" Aziraphale looks indignantly towards her.

"Shh, silence please. Aziraphale, I would like you _especially_ to pay _close_ attention to this next bit."

Everyone turns to glare at him, and Aziraphale needs all his self-discipline not to look down or away. He proudly holds his head up as Gabriel clicks through to the next slide, but as its title comes into view with a jiggly animation, he can't help but put his head in his hands.

"The dangers of consorting with the occult," say the letters, bobbing up and down, little flames crackling out of the last word.

"Ughhh", everyone groans.

"Blisters, boils, bone spurs," say the first bullet points, and they don't get any better as the list scrolls down.

Sandalphon takes notes, scribbling everything down conscientiously, as if the presentation isn't going to be available for all eternity afterwards, forcibly and indelibly sent to everyone's inbox.

Uriel takes the horned figurine from the kit, and stabs the angel figurine in the back with its exceedingly long phallus.

Aziraphale wants very much to tell her how wrong she is, and on how many levels.

But that would be telling.


End file.
